


Pointing a Gun

by sapphire316



Series: Fullmetal Alchemist Amino Scenario Weekly Writing Prompts [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: (Wrote this like...almost two years ago), Gen, Guns and sadness, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Really just rated T for somewhat dark theming, SWW, Short Story, mentions of killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 04:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire316/pseuds/sapphire316
Summary: For Riza Hawkeye, pointing a gun was a promise.For Roy Mustang, pointing a gun was cowardice.For Winry Rockbell, pointing a gun was revenge.For Edward Elric, pointing a gun was a sin.(Originally written for a Scenario Weekly Writing prompt on Fullmetal Alchemist Amino)





	Pointing a Gun

For Riza Hawkeye, pointing a gun was a promise.

While a regular soldier would fire blindly or simply use his weapon as a threat, a sniper knew someone would go down when they pulled the trigger. She had lost count of the number of lives she had ended. She didn't know their names, nor the details of their faces. She only knew that they were Ishvalans she was ordered to exterminate.

"Dark skin, red eye, must die."

The rhyme composed by someone unknown on a whim had become common to hear amongst all the soldiers involved, and even Riza couldn't help but let it enter her mind the moment before she fired her gun. She hated herself for it, but the stupid little poem still came.

It was like a mantra that wouldn't go away. It sounded as though it was trying to disguise everything they were doing as a game, rather than blatant murder.

"Dark skin, red eye, must die."

She heard it every time she pointed her gun at an unknowing Ishvalan, but that didn't mean she agreed with it. What had these people done wrong? Had it not been Amestris that started the war? Why was such extermination necessary?

But she was a soldier, and a soldier had to follow orders. One of those orders was to point her gun and shoot.

And so she did.

She continued making the promise that someone was going to die. Her eyes became hardened and her aim near-perfect.

Pointing a gun was a promise.

_"Dark skin, red eye, must die."_

**~~~**

For Roy Mustang, pointing a gun was cowardice.

As a State Alchemist, he never used a gun on the battlefield. That was what his ignition gloves were for.

Did he know how to use a gun? Of course. Every soldier had at least one, and needed to know how to use it. He usually chose not to, though. He preferred his flames.

The first time he picked up his gun in what felt like forever was not during the Ishvalan War of Extermination. It was after, once he was back home and free of what he had done there.

Or so he thought.

It was a classic case of a soldier's PTSD. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see raging fire, hear piercing screams, feel heat on his face. The scent of burning flesh never seemed to leave his nose. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

So he picked up his gun and pointed it at himself.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there, pointing the weapon at the spot just below his chin. All he knew was that it felt like years.

Then, the phone rang, and the spell was broken.

He didn't remember putting the gun down. He didn't remember picking up the phone. But somehow, there he was, with the phone to his ear and the gun on the floor and a familiar voice saying his name.

"Roy, you okay?"

Ah. So Maes had noticed that Roy hadn't left his apartment for days.

Of course he did. Though he acted a bit goofy sometimes, the man was as sharp as a tack.

"Roy, you okay?"

Roy remembered the conversation he and Maes had had in Ishval. His friend had promised that he would always have his support. Roy had resolved to make it to the top. To make some changes to the country.

And yet he had pointed a gun at himself. But no more. Roy Mustang was not going to die. He would do as he said he would and become Fuhrer. He wouldn't pick up that damn gun again.

Pointing a gun was cowardice.

_"Roy, you okay?"_

**~~~**

For Winry Rockbell, pointing a gun was revenge.

It was the first time she had ever touched a gun. With it, she felt dangerous. It would be so easy to pull the trigger and end the life of the person who had taken her parents from her.

So easy.

It scared her.

It was part of why she was crying. Yes, old memories had been dug up of learning about her parents' untimely death, but that wasn't the only reason. Her tears were also because she was terrifying herself.

She was not a soldier. She never wanted to hold a gun. But here she was, pointing one at the man known only as Scar. Vaguely, somewhere in the distance, she could hear voices that sounded like Edward and Alphonse's, but she couldn't focus on them.

Winry and Scar were the only two people in the world at that moment.

She couldn't decide what she wanted to do. Part of her was screaming at her to drop the gun and run away, while the other part was encouraging her to shoot. The scarred man's red eyes pierced hers, and she could tell that, despite the weapon in her hands, he was not afraid of her.

He was saying something, but she wasn't sure what. Then, there was a flash of blue light. Scar was attacking someone, but she wasn't sure who.

Suddenly, Ed was in front of her, and time stopped.

Everything was frozen in place until Al broke the trance with an attack of his own. Before Winry could process anything, both he and Scar were gone, and Edward was facing her, trying to take the gun.

She couldn't shoot.

She asked him why. Still crying, she asked him why she couldn't shoot the man who killed her parents and tried to kill her best friends. Why couldn't she point the gun and shoot?

"Your hands weren't meant to kill."

That's what Edward said. Her hands weren't meant to kill. They were meant to give life.

He reminded her of when she helped deliver a baby in Rush Valley. He reminded her of how she created automail for not only him, but so many others, replacing what they had lost.

He reminded her of everything she stood for. None of which was murder.

"Your hands weren't meant to kill."

The gun clattered to the ground, pointing at nothing.

Fresh tears streaming from her eyes, she leaned forward and hugged him. She felt him hug her back. Winry knew now that she was never meant to seek vengeance.

Pointing a gun was revenge.

_"Your hands weren't meant to kill."_

**~~~**

For Edward Elric, pointing a gun was a sin.

He had always sworn up and down that he would never kill anyone. Even when joining the military, he made a vow that he would never take another person's life. After the human transmutation incident, he had become startlingly aware of the value of a life.

He had learned how to point a gun. He had learned how to shoot it. But he had never used one on anything besides a lifeless target.

As he lay, trapped beneath Envy's claws, the gun Riza had given him was his only option. His alchemy was somehow gone. He was pinned. If he was going to fight, he would have to use it.

Drawing it was easy. So was pointing it. But when he looked past the weapon and saw the grotesque faces lining the monster's body, he couldn't shoot.

He still considered those souls human. He had to. Otherwise, what would that mean regarding his opinion of his own brother?

Despite Envy's taunts, he couldn't do it. He couldn't shoot.

"I couldn't pull the trigger."

Upon returning the gun to Riza, that was what he told her. She had looked at him a moment, then seemed almost unsurprised.

He was a child, after all. And children shouldn't play with guns.

When he heard from her about what had happened in Ishval, he felt sickened by the whole idea. He couldn't imagine pointing the gun and actually shooting. He couldn't imagine snuffing out a life with the twitch of an index finger.

"I couldn't pull the trigger."

Edward realized just how dangerous guns really were. They didn't only kill the person they were pointed at. In a way, each time they were fired, they killed a little part of the person doing the pointing.

A little, innocent part of the person that they could never again regain. He was glad he hadn't pulled the trigger, even if the gun was pointed at a monster.

He was glad Winry hadn't pulled the trigger, even if the gun was pointed at a killer.

Pointing a gun was a sin.

_"I couldn't pull the trigger."_


End file.
